


Nothing Gold Can Stay

by snowkatze



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Natasha Pitch - Freeform, curse, nymph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: Fiona gives Baz the assignment to get something from the nymph in the woods. Of course, Simon follows him.





	Nothing Gold Can Stay

I am obviously aware of what sort of situation I am about to put myself in. To do what I am about to, you would need to either have no sense for self-preservation or no will to live. Or extremely strong determination. As a stubborn self-loathing vampire, I suppose I fit well enough.

As expected, it's cold in the forest, but at least the flame I keep floating above my palm to lighten my path emits a bit of warmth. The moon shines through the clouds, but it's still gloomy and the leaves on the floor are wet, and even though I am probably the scariest thing around, I can't keep myself from getting goose bumps. It doesn't get better the closer I get to the clearing.

I really shouldn't keep buying into Fiona's stupid ideas. But, she is the only Pitch I can still talk to. So, I straighten my back, lift my head up high, and put on my coldest smirk, because no matter how frightened I am walking into a place, I will be damned if I don't look like a king doing so.

(And maybe it is true that I am reckless – I will surely be dead by the end of the school year, what do a few months matter?)

I take a breath, and think of scratchy fire-holder's hands, before I walk into the clearing. I ignore the floor giving in beneath my shoes and how my heart rate speeds up.

I eye the little lake in the middle of the clearing warily. I'm not expecting to be able to trick her; I don't have much of a plan going into this. Of course, I tried to find out as much about nymphs as I could in the magical library, but there wasn't much information about them. I know that real life nymphs don't have much in common with their mythological counter parts. They live in swamps or lakes in the forest (and I already knew that). They like keeping treasures and luring humans into death (and I don't know if that applies to vampires, too.).

From afar, the lake looks like any other, but as I approach it, I see the surface shimmering, and there is something going around underneath it. I grab my wand.

She probably keeps the treasure deep down and guards it, so I can't sneak past her to get it. I don't think she would fall for a trap, and I don't want to unnecessarily enrage her. Who knows, maybe she will just give it to me? As if it were ever that easy. Maybe she will agree to a trade-off.

I step forward.

“Nymaria,” I say with a steady voice. For a few moments, everything is silent and I hold my breath. Then the surface breaks, and she erupts from the water. It takes everything in me not to step back.

The nymph is more beautiful than any girl I have ever seen, even Agatha, and there are flowers braided into her hair. She looks like a normal human (except for the glow surrounding her), but then again, so do I (and I am anything but human).

“Good night, young vampire,” she says, and it's like her voice is made of silk. “What has brought you to me?”

She smirks. It's similar to the smirk I've practised in front of the mirror for years.

“I came to propose a trade. There is something in your possession that I need.”  
“You came for gold? Oh, you disappoint me, vampire boy.”

“It's a golden necklace with a moon shaped medallion.”  
“Ah, don't tell me you came for jewellery for your girlfriend. You bore me.”  
“Do you have the necklace, or not?”  
“I might. What would you give me in return?”

I open the treasure box that I have been carrying with me. I take out the two necklaces that Fiona gave me and show it to her.

“Two golden necklaces.”  
“And why shouldn't I simply take them from you and have you for a midnight snack?”  
I shudder. Her voice sounds just as melodious as she says it.

“That wouldn't be the smartest choice,” I say and flash my fangs at her.

“Hm,” she muses. “Show me the necklaces.”  
Hesitantly, I throw them over to her. She examines them carefully. I hold my breath again. The necklaces were my only chance. Her glance wanders over them, then she nods. I'm still tense, there's no way I can read her.

“Fine, I will give you the necklace,” she says and it appears in her hand. Wow. She possess an entirely different kind of magic. My breath hitches when I see that it really is the necklace. I don't trust Nymeria, but now the necklace is in reach and I fear that she is going to take it away from me just as quickly. But then, she actually throws it in my direction. I catch it in my hands, even though I am surprised. As soon as the metal touches my skin, I feel pain shooting through my body. I feel my hand cramping, but I don't let go of the necklace.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She cursed the necklace._

I break down on the ground and have trouble breathing.

“Why?” I manage to stutter.

“You think you can fool me?” she says, it's almost like singing. “The necklaces you gave me are not made from real gold. ”  
They aren't? Oh, Fiona.

“I am going to punish you, vampire boy, for trying to trick me. Don't believe you are above my power just because you have sharp teeth and are a little stronger than the average human.”  
I struggle for air, and it's like my skin is aflame. My skin is aflame, and I'm flammable. It doesn't matter – does it matter – would it matter -   
(I know what a few months left to live matter – I would always rather die at the hands of Simon Snow, seeing his stupid face one last time. And I wouldn't miss that for the world.)

I summon all my strength to stand up again, and I stumble back. I have to get back, see him one last time. I don't know what she did to me – but if I'm going to die tonight, then I have to see him once more. I run away, and her laugh follows me through the woods.

Isn't it funny? I clutch the necklace in my fingers. I come to a halt because I lack the strength to keep walking, and I look at it in my hands. From where my skin touches the necklace, gold spreads across my skin, across my palm. I watch it move further. The gold reaches my fingers and I find myself unable to move them. Is this her plan? Turning me in a golden statue?

Then there is no use in running. I'm not going to make it to Watford.  
So instead, I sit underneath a tree and stare at my hand in wonder. The gold makes me think of Simon Snow (but then again, everything does.) I paint the picture of him in my mind, golden hair and golden skin. A golden smile. It's almost as good as the real deal, but not quite. Maybe that's the way the nymph felt about the forgery.

I drag my gaze up towards the sky and enclose the medallion in the hand that I'm still able to move. I stare at the real moon and think of her. She hung the moon. And everything will be alright. I'm coming. After all this time, I am going to die for her.

And that's all I'll be thinking. Simon Snow and Natasha Pitch.

I wonder whether she would have liked him. If she would have liked me. What she would have thought of us together. Maybe she really would have liked him, if he weren't the Mage's heir.

I wonder if Simon Snow is going to cry at my funeral. I wonder if he is even going, maybe to be polite. Maybe to mourn the lost chance to finish me off himself.

I wonder if there is a life after death, and if there is, is there a life for me, too? What am I even afraid of? I am already dead. (Of course I know what I'm afraid of. It's the fear of never seeing Simon Snow again.)

I keep staring into the moon and try to think of the nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me.

_It's okay, little puff. It's okay..._

Suddenly I hear steps, but I don't look, because it doesn't matter anyways.

“Baz?”

It _does_ matter. For fuck's sake. Simon bloody Snow. He looks like nothing more than a shadow between the trees.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I could ask you the same thing. But I think I know what it is.”

It hurts to speak, but I don't let him notice it.

“I just... You left and I...”  
“You followed me. Of course. Of course.”  
“I... did you visit the nymph? What did you want from her?”  
He comes closer, but he doesn't seem to realize that my entire hand is covered in gold. I guess it's too dark.

“Is this part of your grand plan to take me down?”  
“Sure, Snow,” I mutter. “The entire world revolves around you.”  
I want him to come closer. I can't really see his face in the shadow of the trees. Then he steps in the moon light and he is – Simon Snow. Bronze curls, blue eyes. Absolutely golden.

I smile, and lift my arm to reach for him, but then I remember that I can't move my fingers. It's fine. I never could have touched him anyways. It only would have burned me.

“Baz, what's going on? What's wrong with your arm?”  
There's a concerned look on his face. He comes even closer.

“Curse,” I say.

“She cursed you? Why would she do that? What – what did you do?”  
I show him the necklace.

“W-what? You came here for that? Did you steal it from her? Well, then maybe it was justified that she cursed you.”  
“Of course...” I mumble. “Of course...”  
I'm so sick of his accusations. I just wish he would hold my hand, or at least touch my arm.

“Baz...”  
“Well, I guess, then you get now what you always wanted. I die. Congratulations.”  
He stares at me. Then, he sinks to his knees, and we're at eye level. I see the reflection of the moon in his eyes.

“You know exactly that that is not what I've always wanted.”  
“What then, Snow?”  
He remains silent and looks at my gold covered skin. I know he is going to walk away from me. Or maybe he is going to stay and watch me die. (I just want him to stay?)  
“I think,” he mumbles. “I think I just wanted you to be my friend.”  
“I guess we missed that chance.”  
He keeps looking at me.

“Fine,” I sigh. “Go. You don't need to see this.”  
“I'm not going to leave you.”  
“Snow, this is not the time for your bloody hero complex.”  
“I'm not – I don't have – Fuck, Baz, I'm not going to let you die.”

“Then you are a fool. You know that I would, if it were you. I would smile to see you suffer.”  
“Baz, don't.”  
“I hate you,” I whisper.

“How can you do this?”  
He runs his fingers through his hair, they are shaking.  
“How can you – I mean, you – you're dying.”  
“Brilliant observation, Snow.”  
“I just – I just mean – Doesn't it – Isn't it – Baz. This changes everything.”  
“This changes nothing.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Baz. Please.”  
He's so helpless. I guess I'm done watching him struggle.

“Fine. I don't hate you.”

I can't look at him as I say it.

“And I – I wish we could have been friends, too. Happy?”  
“No, Baz, you're dying.”  
Is he crying? I never thought he would care this much. I think he cares more for my life than I do.

“Isn't there something I can do?” he whispers. “How do you break a curse – I - “  
“Maybe you can do it. I have never seen a magician more powerful than you. But I don't know how to break a nymph spell.”  
“I'm going to try.”  
He takes his wand and points it at the necklace.

“ _ **All that glitters is not gold**_ ,” he says. Nothing happens.

“ _ **As good as gold**_ ,” he tries. It's not going to work. But at least I'm hearing his voice. He sobs and it's the strangest thing. He _does_ cry for me. Wicked.

“It's okay, Simon,” I whisper. “You don't have to save everyone. Not me, at least.”  
“Yes, I do. I have to save you.”  
“No. It's alright. I release you from your duty, or whatever. You're free from it.”  
“You can't do that! I'm going to save you.”  
“She hung the moon, you know?”  
“What?”  
“My mum.”

My whole arm is covered in gold by now. I close my eyes, his image still in my mind.

“ _ **Nothing gold can stay**_ ,” he says. I blink, suddenly I can breath freely again. The gold from my skin vanishes, first on my arm, then on the back of my hand, then on my palm.

He did it. It worked. He saved me. Of course he did. He is Simon bloody Snow. I stare at the necklace in my hands. It's true. I think of my mother's black hair. Nothing gold can stay.

“It was my mum's necklace,” I explain. “The nymph stole it from her years ago. I just – I just wanted to get it back.”  
“It's beautiful.”  
“She was beautiful. But – this necklace doesn't bring her back. I can't – I can't just keep collecting pieces of her.”

“Nothing gold can stay.”  
“No. I suppose not. But you have to, Snow.”  
“What?”  
“Stay.”  
He looks at me with wide eyes.

“What about the war?”  
“Screw the war. It's not worth dying for.”

“I can't live forever, though.”  
“I don't care. You can do so many things that others can't do – you're the greatest magician alive. You can figure out a way to keep living, can't you?”  
“Why do you care, Baz? You said you would smile if I died.”  
“I lied, obviously.”  
I stand up and he follows me.

“You have to stay,” I repeat.

“Okay,” Snow says. “I'll stay, if you stay, too.”

“Deal.”

I take his hand, because I don't want to die without ever having held his hand. He lets me. It's scratchy. I squeeze his hand, because I'm afraid he'll float away if I let go. I won't let him. He's made of gold and sunshine, but I'll make him stay.

 


End file.
